Overpowered System

As they walked down the mountain trail, Shiro rubbed his chin in thought. Time management is crucial. I should know exactly when we'll arrive at the city. A genius like me doesn't just guess. He called out to the [Crossover System] in his mind.

"Hey, System, do you have a clock or something?"

The response came immediately, crisp and efficient.

> Clock

-10 Points

Shiro deadpanned, his expression flattening. "Seriously? You're charging me for something everyone else gets for free on their phones?" He sighed heavily, shaking his head. "Fine, take my points, you scam artist."

The purchase confirmed, a small holographic clock appeared in the corner of his vision.

> [2:00 PM]

Shiro stared at the clock for a moment, his lips twitching. "Ten points well spent," he muttered sarcastically. "Now I'm the proud owner of time itself."

His gaze drifted toward the [Shop] menu, a tempting thought forming in his mind. I could just buy a smartphone… but wait. Shiro frowned slightly, his fingers hovering over the option. It's 2006. Flip phones are still the kings of the market. Walking around with a smartphone now would be like waving a giant 'Look at me!' flag. And let's be real—I already attract too much attention as it is.

He dismissed the idea but couldn't help entertaining a wilder thought: What if I used the system to revolutionize technology? I could flood the market with innovations, make billions, and become the Elon Musk of 2006!

But as quickly as the idea came, he waved it away with a shake of his head. "Nah, not my style."

Business wasn't his thing. Sure, the idea of using the system to rake in money was tempting, but business and politics went hand in hand. And Shiro hated politics—not because he believed in simplistic notions like everyone's corrupt or no one can be trusted.

Politics, Shiro mused, was more nuanced than people liked to admit. We're human. Like it or not, we're driven by interests and desires. There's no true good or bad in the world—just a conflict of interest. He paused, letting the thought settle. The only real exception is a madman who can't control himself. But even they aren't 'pure evil.' They're just… mad.

The corner of his mouth twitched into a small smirk. Good and evil are just labels we slap on people, just like we slap price tags on things in stores. It's all perspective.

Still, politics annoyed him. Not because of the people involved, but because of the messiness of it all. He didn't hold some naive belief that the law was perfect—it wasn't. But for all its flaws, it was one of the few safeguards that protected people's rights.

Imagine a world without laws, Shiro thought, his expression darkening slightly. Complete chaos.

The thought passed, and Shiro exhaled slowly, a faint grin returning to his face. "Man, my insight is on another level," he muttered, giving himself an internal pat on the back. "What a brilliant mind I have."

"Great," Shiro muttered as they walked down the mountain trail. "Ten points well spent. Now I can tell time like a caveman with a sundial." He shook his head, flicking open the [Shop] menu for the hundredth time just to check what else was available. The System didn't disappoint—it never did.

But as his eyes skimmed the options, a new thought struck him. If it has something as mundane as a clock, what about identification? He immediately voiced his query.

"Hey, System, can you make fake or official identification for me and the kids?"

The response came instantly, crisp and efficient as always.

> Fake Identification

-5 Points each

Real Identification

-25 Points each

Real Identification will appear in the database of the country after purchase as if it has and always been there to begin with.

Shiro's eyes widened, then sparkled with delight as his lips curled into a mischievous grin. "information manipulation and reality warping? Oh, System, you're really something else. My faith in you just keeps growing."

Without hesitation, he purchased three official identifications.

"Time to flex my creative muscles," Shiro muttered, leaning against a tree with a self-satisfied smirk. His fingers swiped through the customization options with the precision of an artist at work. "Obviously, I'm the dashing, genius older stepbrother—handsome, kind, misunderstood. Nanako and Mimiko? Adorable little stepsisters with a tragic backstory. Parents couldn't handle my overwhelming brilliance and abandoned all of us. Very believable, very dramatic. Perfect."

As he finalized the purchase, a prompt appeared before him:

> [Processing Request]

By the time the IDs materialized in his hand, Shiro was practically vibrating with excitement. The cards were flawless—holographic imprints, government seals, and even small, believable details that made them appear authentic.

"Perfect! Step one complete," Shiro declared, inspecting his own ID with immense satisfaction. His grin widened further when he noticed the entry under his academic history: Homeschool Genius.

Nanako and Mimiko peeked at him from the side, their timid curiosity piqued but not enough to interrupt his self-congratulatory moment.

"Alright, kids!" Shiro said, holding up the cards like a magician revealing his latest trick. "Say hello to your official new lives. You're now my adorable stepsisters, and I am your incredibly handsome, incredibly smart older brother."

The girls blinked at him, then nodded in perfect unison, their trust absolute despite his ridiculous words.

"Good, good," Shiro said, his voice full of pride. "I love how much faith you have in me. It's inspiring. Really."

The System chimed again.

> Government Support for Orphans Disbursed

Total: ¥3,540,000

Shiro froze, staring at the number hovering in his vision. For a moment, he thought his genius had broken the System. But no—the digits were real, and they were spectacular.

"Three point five million yen?" he whispered, then whistled low. "The government's paying us for being orphans? Who knew pity could be this lucrative?"

He quickly rubbed his chin, thinking. This must be financial support calculated from birth until now. Two adorable five-year-olds and one dazzling sixteen-year-old? Yeah, makes sense.

"System," he said softly, his grin spreading wide, "you are the gift that keeps on giving."

Nanako tilted her head. "What's wrong, Shiro?"

"Wrong?" Shiro repeated, his tone shifting to exaggerated cheer as he casually slipped the cards and money into his pocket. "Nothing's wrong! Everything's fantastic. We're rich. Well, not 'billionaire' rich, but who's counting?"

Mimiko blinked. "Rich?"

"That's right!" Shiro said, pulling them into a celebratory hug. "From now on, your big brother can afford to spoil you properly. No more worrying about food, no more wondering where we'll sleep. Consider yourselves officially upgraded to luxury mode!"

The girls didn't fully understand what was happening, but they nodded anyway, smiling faintly at his enthusiasm.

As they continued walking, Shiro's mind buzzed with possibilities. This System is insanely overpowered. If I wanted to, I could edit my history to make myself the heir of a 4-billion-dollar company. Though…

Curiosity got the better of him. He opened the customization menu again, scrolling to the relevant option.

> Cost: 40,000 Points

"Figures," Shiro muttered, waving the idea away. "The billionaire heir dream's on hold. For now."

He idly scrolled further, stopping at another tantalizing option: joining the Zenin, Gojo, or Kamo Clans. "Interesting," he mused. "System, can I become a part of those families?"

> [Unique] Section Required

- 10,000 Points

"Of course," Shiro said dryly. "Always something. And just being in a clan isn't enough—I'd need an Innate Curse Technique to make it worth it. But at this rate…" He sighed, closing the menu. "Budgeting sucks."

Shiro was tempted to edit his profile to be part of the Zenin Clan, secretly awakened to the Ten Shadows Technique, or the Gojo Clan, harboring the Limitless Technique in secret. The possibilities thrilled him—he could already imagine the prestige, the awe on people's faces, and the inevitable declarations of his brilliance.

But just as he entertained these thoughts, the System promptly dampened his mood with a cold, practical message:

> Editing profile to include Zenin or Gojo Clan lineage with corresponding Innate Curse Techniques may cost between 250,000 and 500,000 Points.

Shiro froze, his grin faltering as he read the message again. "Excuse me?" he muttered, his voice dripping with disbelief.

He stared at the screen for several seconds, the absurd cost sinking in. "Two hundred fifty thousand to five hundred thousand points?!" he hissed, running a hand through his hair. "You've got to be kidding me! That's not just expensive—that's highway robbery!"

Shiro slumped slightly, letting out a dramatic sigh. "Looks like my secret prodigy fantasy is on hold indefinitely," he grumbled.

He glanced back at Nanako and Mimiko, who were quietly holding hands, their trustful smiles small but sincere. His heart softened. Forget the clans or the money. You two won't have to worry about anything anymore. I'll take care of it all.

By the time they reached a small bus stop, the clock in his vision read 3:25 PM. Shiro sat them down on the bench, producing their IDs and a portion of the cash.

"Alright, step one: transportation. This genius didn't climb down a mountain just to walk the rest of the way to the city."

Nanako tilted her head. "What's step two?"

"House shopping!" Shiro said with a grin. "Big, cozy, and with plenty of room for snacks."

"And step three?" Mimiko asked.

Shiro smirked. "Profit."

The girls exchanged a glance, then nodded as if that answer made perfect sense.

To Shiro, profit was everything in life. Big or small, it didn't matter—as long as he could gain something, it was worth the effort. Every interaction, every encounter, had the potential for profit.

And the city? It was like a treasure trove waiting to be unlocked. A place where minor characters to major players roamed the streets. Just meeting them was already a gain.

"Take Mimiko and Nanako, for example," Shiro mused aloud, glancing at his two quiet companions. "Meeting them alone netted me 100 points each."

He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his mind racing with possibilities. "Now, what about meeting a major character? Geto? Gojo? Kenjaku?" At the thought of Kenjaku, a shiver ran down his spine.

"Yeah, no thanks," Shiro muttered, shaking his head quickly. "Kenjaku's basically the Orochimaru of this world. Creepy, overpowered, and always involved in some apocalyptic nonsense. Better not get involved with him just yet."

He straightened up, brushing off the thought. "Still, the potential for points in the city is insane. If minor characters are worth 100 points each, imagine what someone like Gojo would bring in. Enough points to unlock something big, maybe even upgrade my profile."

Shiro grinned to himself, his enthusiasm returning in full force. "Alright, Tokyo City—you better get ready. Because Shiro is on his way, and I'm cashing in on everything."

As they waited for the bus, Shiro leaned back, arms stretched lazily across the bench. For the first time in days, things seemed to be falling into place.